


A Dragonlord's Duty

by Trexi



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Merlin, Canon Era, Gen, Magic Reveal, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-11 04:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15307140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trexi/pseuds/Trexi
Summary: Merlin realises that Aithusa is missing and sets off to find her. Arthur and Gwaine notice him sneaking off prepared for a long journey, so naturally they follow (Multi-POV).





	1. Just a Child

**MERLIN**

I’m starting to regret letting Kilgharrah live. I’m definitely regretting leaving Aithusa in his care. I thought that suddenly not being the last of his kind anymore would get him to, I don’t know, treat the one other dragon nicely and not decide to abandon her just because she happened to heal Morgana. I’ll be talking to Aithusa about that once I find her. Until then, I’m more worried about the missing baby dragon than her not knowing the difference between good and evil magic.

I should’ve known better than to leave her in the hands, er, paws of the most morally ambiguous magical being I’ve ever met.

She’s been missing for weeks. Weeks! I’m lucky I managed to get an answer out of Kilgharrah in the first place. He was being more cryptic than usual in his grumpiness at her. I had to command him to speak plainly. I’ve tried calling Aithusa nine times since then. I gave up once I got too close to Camelot again. I’ve got to go look for her. I don’t have to guess what Kilgharrah thinks of her not answering. She must be in trouble.

I’m sure Arthur is safe without me for a few weeks while I go searching. He’s got the knights, Gwen and Gaius to look out for him. I considered asking for time off, but he was as grouchy as a dragon, a very particular dragon, when I last saw him storming away from the training grounds grumbling about drunken knights. I’m sure he’ll be fine with George taking over my duties while I’m gone.

Once I might’ve been worried over losing my job for this, but he hasn’t fired me yet, at least, not permanently.

I duck my head out my door again, but there’s still no sign of Gaius. Guess I’ll have to leave a note then. If I stick around too long, some disaster is sure to happen that will just take too much time. A missing baby dragon is a bigger priority right now. I’m sure Gaius will understand. Plus, it’s been pretty quiet since we took Camelot back from Morgana for the second time. Surely anyone with a grudge against Uther can hold off until I get back.

There are plenty of people to protect Camelot, but I’m the only dragonlord. I’ve got a responsibility to look after Aithusa, even if that means taking off in the middle of the night with a haphazardly packed bag and a barely concealed Sidhe staff hooked between it and my back. At least I left a note scrawled on Gaius’ workbench. It’s detailed and everything.

_‘Gaius, Aithusa’s missing and I’m off to find her. Tell Arthur I’ve gone to Ealdor or anything except that I’m at the tavern. Thanks, Merlin.’_

(Gaius was extremely unimpressed by the note, but sent word to Hunith in case Arthur tried to drag Merlin back to Camelot himself)

My first destination is the clearing where Aithusa healed Morgana. Hopefully I’ll find some clues there. Otherwise, I’ll have to ask if anyone’s seen a white baby dragon flying around. I just hope Aithusa’s out there stuck in a tree somehow and is accidentally blocking my call. I sigh as I pass the Rising Sun.

The only way she could ignore my command is if she was magically restrained or badly hurt. She’s still alive though. I’m sure even Kilgharrah wouldn’t have been complaining about young dragons healing evil witches, somehow that particular jab seemed directed at me, if she wasn’t at least alive.

Aithusa’s alive, but probably scared and alone, or worse, scared and with Morgana.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll forever have a problem with Merlin seemingly not noticing a baby dragon going missing between seasons 4 and 5.


	2. Strength and Courage

**ARTHUR**

“This is the third time this week that you’ve skipped training to spend a day in the tavern,” I grumble, throwing Gwaine out of the Rising Sun. “I’d give you more patrols to keep you sober, but somehow I’m sure you’d sneak some mead with you regardless.”

Gwaine grins. “Good to know we’re on the same page, Princess.”

“Merlin’s having a terrible influence on you knights.”

“Speak of the devil,” Gwaine flicks his head to gesture at my manservant, hunched over on his horse, eyes darting around unseeing, like he does when worrying over something.

“What _is_ he doing?” I ask.

Gwaine shrugs. “Hey, Merlin!” he shouts, with all the subtlety of, well, a man who’s spent the day in the tavern.

Merlin doesn’t so much as flinch. He keeps riding like he didn’t hear Gwaine. Actually, I don’t think he did. Whatever he’s thinking about, he’s too focussed to notice Gwaine’s continued shouting. Times like these I’d usually throw something to get his attention, but I don’t think I have the energy to throw Gwaine.

“Why’s he packed for a journey?” I ask.

Gwaine’s grin is suddenly a whole lot more sober. “Let’s find out.”

“A king can’t just spontaneously follow his manservant out of Camelot, even if he’s acting incredibly suspicious.”

“C’mon, Princess. It’ll be like a mini quest.” Gwaine starts running towards the castle. “Plus, you had no choice to follow your dangerously drunk knight out of the city where he could end up getting himself killed by bandits.”

That ... is not something Drunk Gwaine would say.

I jog to catch up. “Did you fake being drunk just to get me to personally drag you out of the tavern?”

He shrugs. “There might’ve been a bet involved. Don’t worry though. I’m sure Sir Leon will share his winnings if you frown hard enough.”

I shake my head. All that time spent worrying over what kind of king I’d be and this is it: the kind to chase wayward manservants with a fake-drunken knight, and the subject of bets among my most loyal. I’m sure the council are twitching in their sleep right now. Maybe I’ll leave them a note. I could say I went hunting. That always seems to work.

(Suffice to say, when Gaius found that note he seriously began to doubt whether the two were destined to create a Golden Age of Albion or just create headaches for Court Physicians).

*

Gwaine and I ride out of Camelot within ten minutes. It takes less than that to find Merlin’s trail and start following him. In that time, I managed to convince Gwaine to not suddenly ride up to Merlin if we see him. I want a good reason why my manservant has chosen to leave without word of warning and I doubt I’ll get a straight answer out of him if I ask. If he wants to be shady and ride out in the middle of the night, then I reserve the right to secretly follow him to find out why.

*

Okay, maybe I wasn’t expecting this.

“Is he ... hunting?” Gwaine asks, rightfully incredulous.

“He’s definitely tracking something, or at least trying to,” I answer.

It’s past daybreak and Merlin stopped in this clearing for almost an hour before seemingly choosing a random direction and riding off with a scowl.

Gwaine dismounts. “There’s some blood here,” he says, crouching on the grass.

“An animal?”

I wouldn’t put it past him to be trying to help a boar or something.

“This ... this looks like a person bled here. It’s not recent, but they bled a lot.”

That makes me dismount. “Any sign of where they went?”

Gwaine glances up and chuckles. “Yeah, same direction Merlin went.”

“So he’s looking for the person who got injured here.” I study the dried blood. “Nevermind, who stopped here while injured.”

“Well, then. Let’s find out who’s so important to our Merlin that makes him go off without me.”

I frown. “Without you? He’s my servant.”

“Yeah, but he’s my best friend.” Gwaine hops on his horse. “And I’m willing to admit it, unlike a certain princess I know.”

“When we get back it’s going to be the stocks for both of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least Arthur doesn't think Merlin's in a tavern this time.


	3. Pheasant Hunt

**MERLIN**

The fifth villager tells me that he’s seen no trace of a wyvern or a woman dressed in black. I can’t very well ask if anyone’s seen a white dragon or Morgana wondering around, so it’s up to vague descriptions and hopeful smiles to find a clue. It turns out that talking to children and drunkards gets the most answers, but most the time they’re either making up the answer or are just confused by the question.

I’ve gotten enough suspicious glares to last me a lifetime from my odd questions, to the point that I’ve pretty much stopped asking about them together. Twice I’ve had to use my position as Arthur’s manservant to justify the wyvern questions. I claimed to work for a knight a few other times because apparently I don’t look like a king’s servant. I’ve asked about strange looking pheasant a few times, but even then, nobody seems to have seen Aithusa.

I started claiming that the woman I’m looking for is my sister after several people pointed out that my description of her matched me. I’ve switched my claim from simply missing to sick and missing so I can play off villagers’ sympathies. I honestly thought I was on Morgana’s trail for a few villages, but then I realised I was getting closer to Camelot again. She wouldn’t want to do that after losing so recently. I wish I didn’t have to follow her trail, but it’s easier to track a person than it is a dragon.

I just hope that if I do find her, then she can lead me to Aithusa.

Though there might be someone else who can help me in that particular search. I noticed that two people were following me a few days ago. I’m not sure how long for, but they got particularly close after I blatantly asked a child if she’d seen a dragon. It wasn’t my best moment, but I was getting tired of not getting a single lead. The young girl honestly answered that she had, and I’ve been on that particular trail ever since. I’m not sure if she saw Aithusa, but I wanted to shake the two following me, so I took off in that direction at a fast gallop.

I step into a tavern as the sun starts setting and slip past a particularly large group. Almost immediately, two cloaked figures enter the building, look around and whisper to each other. They walk right past me and up to the barkeep. I smile and dart back outside while they’re distracted. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about these two, it’s that their dumb as rocks but surprisingly good at tracking. I give it five minutes before they realise I’m not there and another five before they’re on my trail again.

I need to either confront them and give them a little scare with some harmless magic or lose them tonight before I make my way to a druid camp nearby. That’s where I was heading before they so rudely interrupted me. If any group of people honestly saw Aithusa and didn’t chalk it up to ale or exhaustion, it’d be the druids. Plus it’ll be nice for them to see the ‘Great Emrys’ is just as human as they are and fully capable of losing a baby dragon.

“He’s not inside.”

“What do you mean, he’s not inside? We both saw him walk in there. I doubt even Merlin could pull a disappearing act like that.”

Oh you have to be kidding me. Of all the obnoxious people to follow me, it has to be those two. I swear they better have a good reason, or I’m marching them right back to Camelot myself. As it is, I have to forgo the plan of scaring them with magic. I somehow doubt it’d work out in my interest. I’m going to have to confront them. Of course I am. I guess I’ll have to delay that trip to the druids then.

I duck into an alley way and press myself against a wall. The two hooded men, who I really should’ve recognised before now, bicker their way past me and practically jump out of their skins when I burst into laughter.

“You couldn’t secretly follow someone if your lives depended on it. And to think, you’re Camelot’s best.”

Gwaine turns around with a grin, Arthur with a scowl.

The prat rips his hood off. “Well we wouldn’t be out here following you if you hadn’t snuck out of Camelot in the middle of the night.”

“You’ve never followed me before,” I retort. “Which doesn’t even make sense considering I left Gaius a note this time.”

Gwaine pulls his hood down and shakes his hair out. “You left a note too?”

“What do you mean too?” I ask. Wait. I round on Arthur. “Are you saying the King of Camelot rode off in the night after his manservant and just left a note? What happened to all your talk about being a good, responsible King?”

Arthur folds his arms. “I told them I was going on a hunt.”

“A hunt? You mean to say that you lied? I thought a good King was always honest to his people.”

“I’m sure nobody will be the wiser when we return to Camelot with you in tow. My manservant is meant to stay by my side, after all, not take off without a word.”

“I already told you that I left a note. Gaius would’ve told you about it if you’d waited until morning.”

(At this point, Gaius has guessed that Arthur and Gwaine have gone after his ward. He’s more than a little worried about the idea of those three on any sort of quest alone again).

“What’d your note say, then?” Gwaine asks.

“The truth.” I glance away. “And to tell Arthur that I was going to Ealdor.”

Arthur frowns. “This isn’t Ealdor.”

“Correct.”

“You would lie to your King?”

“It’s part of my job description. No, Arthur, I didn’t add another hole to your belt. Of course this speech is great; I only had to make a few changes. That’s a brilliant gift for the Queen. You definitely never had a sausage on that plate.”

Arthur turns a shade lighter than Camelot red. “We’re going to get ourselves a room and the moment the sun rises, we’re going home. I’m done traversing across the kingdom, following you bumble from village to village.”

You two are more than welcome to go home. I have a job to do. I’ll just have to sneak out once they fall asleep. It shouldn’t be too hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're heading roughly north, if anyone's wondering.


	4. Mystery Healer

**ARTHUR**

It’s really no surprise when Merlin tries to sneak out of our room. I have him pinned to the ground before he can make it to the door. Gwaine sits on the end of his bed laughing as Merlin struggles to shove me off.

“Let go of me!” Merlin screeches.

“What so you can run off again? Not going to happen.”

“I wouldn’t have to run off if you two would just leave me be and go back home.”

“What could possibly be so important that makes you try taking off in the middle of the night again?”

“None of your business.”

“I’m the King, Merlin. Everything is my business.”

Merlin gets a knee to my chest and shoves me off. He scrambles to his feet. “This doesn’t concern you, Arthur. It certainly doesn’t warrant you leaving Camelot.”

“Ah but we’re still in Camelot the Kingdom, Merlin. And I have every right to be here.”

“Then I’ll just leave the kingdom.”

Gwaine’s laughter stops. “I hate to agree with the Princess, but maybe we should head back to the castle and talk about this. Surely whatever you’re doing out here, whoever you’re trying to find can wait.”

“No.” I flinch at the power in Merlin’s voice. His exasperation quickly transforms into anger. “It’s bad enough that I only knew she was missing the night I left. I am not risking her ending up in more trouble if I go back with you two.”

“Who’s missing?” Gwaine asks.

“It doesn’t concern you, either of you.”

“Merlin, you’re our friend,” Gwaine says. “If we can help you find this missing friend of yours in any way-.”

“No.”

I shake my head. “Merlin, that’s enough. Let’s just head back to Camelot, and we can send out a search party for this friend of yours. The knights can keep a look out while they’re on patrol. They’d probably find her faster than you wandering from village to village anyway.”

“I seriously doubt they’d want to help find Aithusa. Even if they did, she doesn’t have the time for me to stop looking now.”

“She was injured!” Gwaine exclaims. “That’s why you’re so worked up, isn’t it?”

“No, as far as I know, Aithusa is fine physically.”

“Then who’s blood was it, in that clearing?” I ask.

Merlin sighs. “You’re not going to like that answer.”

“Answer the question or I’m dragging you back to Camelot myself,” I say.

Merlin grumbles something about entitled prats and leans against the door. “It was Morgana’s blood. She stopped in that clearing after escaping Camelot. Aithusa, the innocent healer that she is, saved Morgana’s life. The last person to see Aithusa was Morgana. You can understand now why I’m so worried.”

“But why would anybody help Morgana?” Gwaine asks, only just recovered from his ordeal at her hand.

“Aithusa wouldn’t have recognised her. She would’ve seen a person needing help and helped. She’s extremely trusting. I wouldn’t put it past Morgana to take advantage of that.”

Merlin looks like he wants to say more, but looks at me and seems to decide otherwise.

“You think they’re travelling together, don’t you?” I ask.

“Probably. I’ve given descriptions of both of them and the general consensus is they’re heading north, over the border. It’s for the best that you let me go on my own. If either of you are caught crossing the border without good reason, it’d cause problems.”

I really don’t understand how Merlin’s mind works sometimes.

“You’re going after Morgana, a powerful witch, by yourself,” I point out. “This Aithusa can’t be that important that you haven’t mentioned her before and she certainly doesn’t warrant you getting yourself killed because she might be in trouble after she chose to help Morgana. You know, the same Morgana who has attacked our home and killed innocents multiple times.”

“Aithusa is that important. I’d do the same thing for either of you, or Gwen or Gaius or the other knights, without question. Just because the Great King Prat of Camelot hasn’t met her, doesn’t make her any less important. I am going to find her and bring her home whether you like it or not. So how about you save your breath, stop trying to convince me otherwise and go back home where you have a kingdom to run, _sire_.”

Gwaine slaps Merlin on the back. “How about we just come with you? That way Princess doesn’t have to worry about you getting yourself killed and you get to introduce us to the girl that’s got you this worked up.”

“Or we could just go home and Merlin can stop throwing a tantrum,” I grumble.

Merlin scowls. “So I manage the impossible by getting you to stop feeling sorry for yourself and recognise yourself as the rightful King of Camelot when you were more than ready to give up, but the moment I try and help someone else I care about, I’m throwing a tantrum? Of course you’d probably find some way to say that was just part of my normal duties, like writing your speeches for you, convincing you that Gwen was worth every effort of making her your Queen, and walking into impossible fights by your side without any armour or a weapon. All of which I’m do for the good of Camelot, a kingdom I wasn’t even born in. I owe you no loyalty, Arthur, yet I give it without question. The least you could do is afford me the courtesy of letting me help my friend who made the mistake of trusting the wrong person.”

I meet his glare with my own, but Merlin refuses to falter.

“Fine, but Gwaine’s right for once. We’re not letting you do this alone. You can explain to Guinevere why this hunting trip is taking so long when we get back.”

(Gwen at this point has figured out that Gaius knows something, but lucky for him, he’s swamped with all the duties he usually gets Merlin to handle, so she hasn’t been able to get more out of him).

Merlin looks like he’d rather send the two of us home, but reluctantly nods. “I guess I could use your tracking skills.”

Gwaine laughs. “Merlin, my friend, we watched you go in circles for days. We’d have found Aithusa by now if you’d just asked for our help in the first place.”

I want to ask Merlin why he didn’t do just that, but the idiot chooses that moment to dangerously sway from exhaustion. I suppose it can wait until morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suffice to say, Merlin will not be going to the druids for help.


	5. Good and Evil

**MERLIN**

Okay, maybe having these two along is making this whole ‘following a trail’ thing a little easier. I refuse to say so aloud though. I can’t risk making their heads any bigger. I still think Arthur should’ve gone home. It isn’t fair on Gwen to suddenly leave when she’s only just become Queen. Then again, it isn’t like Arthur to think things through. If it was just Gwaine, I might’ve considered telling him the truth about Aithusa. As it is, I’ll have to find a way to get away from the two of them once we have a location. I doubt they’d be happy to learn they were helping me find a baby dragon.

Gaius is probably glad to not have to deal with all this nonsense like usual. I wonder how he’s doing. Maybe I should send him an update at the next village, at least to say I’m still alive. I’ll trick Arthur into paying for the message.

(Gaius is going to give Merlin leech tank cleaning duties for a month, at least).

“So how long have you been courting Aithusa for?” Gwaine asks, riding up beside me.

I make a face. “It’s not like that!”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “Then what exactly is it like?”

“Aithusa’s practically family to me. And she’s way too young for you to make any of those insinuations. She’s a child, an innocent child who doesn’t understand the difference between good and evil yet.”

Gwaine grins. “Should’ve known you’d go off looking for a lost kid. She from your village or someone you’ve met in Camelot?”

“I’ve known Aithusa her whole life. I’m friends of sorts with her guardian.”

“Of sorts?” Arthur questions.

“Well I was pretty angry at him after I found out that he abandoned Aithusa for helping Morgana.”

“Did you scold him for bad parenting?” Arthur mocks.

“In a way.”

*

_“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE THE BABY DRAGON IS?”_

_Kilgharrah backs up. “She healed the witch’s life-threatening injuries. I will no longer guide her.”_

_My eyes burn gold. The ground shakes. Tree split open. Thunder booms above._

_“So you thought it right to abandon Aithusa, a baby, in a world that would see her dead?”_

_“Dragon younglings are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. There is no need to coddle them like human children.”_

_Lightning cracks across the sky. A bolt explodes next to me. I step towards Kilgharrah. The ground shatters around me._

_“There was no need for me to allow you to live after you made the mistake of attacking Camelot. I still did. We’re kin, Kilgharrah; that’s why I let you continue breathing. I expected you to treat Aithusa as family too. Aithusa couldn’t have known it was wrong to help Morgana, that she was evil. Nobody told her. You didn’t tell her. So you have NO RIGHT to punish Aithusa for it. If you_ ever _do something like this again, I will end you. Are we clear?”_

_Kilgharrah bows his head. “Yes, young warlock.”_

_“Good, now help me track Aithusa down.”_

*

“And I bet he was intimidated too,” Arthur says in that same mocking tone.

I laugh; it’s empty of humour. “You have no idea.”

Kilgharrah told me my voice sounded more like an angry dragon than human. I think it was meant to be a compliment, but he was in too much shock for me to tell.

Gwaine catches on. “You actually scared the daylights out of this guy?”

“He certainly won’t be making the same mistake again.”     

Arthur frowns. “How old exactly is Aithusa? You said you’ve known her for her whole life, but never said when you met her guardian.”

“I met her guardian in Camelot,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “You’ve met him before, but you didn’t get along. He was a bit of an ass, still is, considering recent events.”

“But how old is Aithusa? You’ve been in Camelot for seven years. I don’t see how a child that young could know how to save someone from the injuries that Gwen said Morgana had.”

“She’s six.” Months. There, still the truth, sort of. “Her guardian is a healer. She’s been taught his craft throughout her life.”

“A healer?” Arthur questions. “I don’t remember meeting a healer that I didn’t get along with.”

“You don’t remember a lot of things, Arthur.” Like when a dragon can only be killed by a dragonlord. “It must be all the head injuries. Plus, you only met him briefly. I doubt it was memorable.” There you go. Only the last bit was a lie, or at least I hope so. Knowing Arthur, anything’s possible.

“How’d you meet him?” Gwaine asks.

“I kind of stumbled onto him. He’s helped me out a couple of times. Like that time Morgause tied me up in a serket nest.”

“He fought off a bunch of serkets?” Gwaine exclaims.

I shrug. “He healed me after I got stung.”

Arthur stops his horse. “Do you seriously expect us to believe that this happened? When would Morgause have taken any interest in you?”

I keep riding. “When I followed Morgana out of Camelot the week she came back. I told you I had been dying. You ignored me. So just a typical day.”

Arthur catches up. “Morgana was working with Morgause even then?”

I shake my head at his obliviousness. “They were working together since the Knights of Medhir. That was just another ploy to kill Uther after all. It was hardly the first time Morgana tried to kill the man, but the first she tried to follow through with it.”

Gwaine stares at me like he’s never met me before. It’s unnerving. “How do you know all of this?”

I shrug. “People don’t pay attention to servants. It’s the perk of being invisible.”

Too bad it didn’t work on these two when I rode out of Camelot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's figured out that the best way to lie is to tell as much of the truth as possible.


	6. No Wyvern

**ARTHUR**

Okay, I’ve had enough. I’ve already lost the bet with Gwaine, so it’s about time I ordered Merlin to tell me. Gwaine seems to sense my decision from across the campfire and grins. I glance at Merlin, but he makes no move to further cover the staff attached to his bag, despite the wrap having come undone while the sun was still high in the sky. It’s ridiculous, really. He’s never used it for walking because we’ve been riding everywhere and only moves to cover it better when we come close to a village.

“What’s the blasted staff for?” I shout.

Merlin slowly smiles. “I was wondering when you’d ask.”

“Princess bet that you’d tell us if we stared hard enough. I figured you were enjoying our confusion and wouldn’t say anything for at least three days.”

“At first, I forgot I even had it with me,” Merlin admits.

“You forgot you had a…” I pick up the staff. “What exactly is this anyway?”

Merlin shrugs. “I got it off Sophia.”

“The same Lady Sophia you promised not to speak of?”

“Well if you don’t want me to answer the question…”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Hold up,” Gwaine says. “Who’s this Sophia?”

Merlin grins. “Oh, just some girl that Arthur tried to marry a couple of days after meeting her. I had to knock him out and drag him home before he eloped.”

“ _Mer_ lin, I told you not to speak of it.”

“You’re the one who wanted to know about the staff, sire.”

“And I want to know why nobody told me about Sophia before,” Gwaine adds.

“Because I’m the King and can’t have my servant gossiping about my past with my knights.”

Merlin takes his staff back. “You asked your father for permission to marry in front of the whole court, Arthur. It’s hardly a secret.”

Yet I don’t remember it.

“How’d you get the staff from Lady Sophia?” I ask. “And where exactly have you been keeping it for the past several years?”

“She didn’t need it anymore, left it just lying on the ground. I thought it looked nice and it seemed a shame to let it end up with bandits, so I took it home with me. It’s been under my bed ever since.”

Gwaine laughs. “I knew I recognised it from somewhere.”

“Familiar with all the servants’ beds, are you?” I ask.

Merlin shakes his head. “Gwaine slept there when he was in Camelot the first time around, remember? He took that knife for you and regretted it once he learned how much of a prat you are.”

“Ah, but now I know the princess is better than other noble types and I would happily take a knife, sword or otherwise sharp and pointy object in his place.”

“Thank you, Gwaine. See, Merlin? This is what proper respect for one’s king looks like.”

Merlin frowns. “I’ve drunken poison for you, Arthur, even with knowing how much of a royal ass you can be. Don’t think I wouldn’t do anything to save your life or that I don’t respect you because I’m not constantly reminding you of that.” He stands up. “I’ll take the first watch. Wouldn’t want you two to miss out on your beauty sleep.”

“Much appreciated,” Gwaine says, giving me a pointed talk-to-him look that I choose to ignore.

Merlin’s hardly going to be more open without Gwaine around. The last time I tried to talk to him on this little quest without the knight present, Merlin snapped at me within five minutes. All I wanted to know is why any sane person was following Morgana and, from some of the rumours we’ve heard, a wyvern. If I wasn’t King, I’m quite sure that Merlin would’ve punched me. Or grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me until I saw sense. I suppose Merlin truly does care about this Aithusa as much as he claims, even if I find it odd that he’s never mentioned her before, not even in passing.

I grumble about pain in the ass manservants while lying down. Come to think of it, Merlin never did say why he brought the staff along either. I suppose I’ll ask in the morning.

*

The question is on the tip of my tongue when I wake up, it really is. Then I realise that the sun’s up and Merlin didn’t wake me. From the look of mixed annoyance and worry on Gwaine’s face, he didn’t wake the knight either. Merlin doesn’t meet our eyes while he packs up the camp, but I do catch the dark circles etched under them. He didn’t forget to wake us, did he? The idiot never switched watches on purpose. I consider asking him why exactly he saw fit to wear himself down and risk falling off his horse later today, but then Merlin looks up.

That much worry, dread and anxiety have no place on Merlin’s face. If I could order it away, I would. As it is, I suppose I could help with packing away the camp and keep an eye out so that if he does start slipping off his horse, he doesn’t end up with his face in the mud. I nod to Gwaine so he knows to do the same. If Merlin chooses to run himself to the ground, then that’s his decision, but we’re hardly going to stand by and let him fall when we’re able to catch him.

(Gaius isn’t worried at all. That’s definitely Gwen, who at this point has figured it out and is trying to act like the king hasn’t gone off on a random quest without telling anybody, again).

*

Thankfully Merlin doesn’t take a sideways trip off his horse before we reach the next village, but my attention is quickly torn from him to a man dressed in familiar clothes, those of Amata. It’s hardly unusual for one of Sarrum’s men to be this far south, in Camelot’s lands, and not unpermitted, technically. We haven’t gotten around to revising the treaty between the two kingdoms after my father died, so the previous one still stands. I’m sure he won’t mind telling me what business he has in this village, though, even if it’s close to the border with Nemeth.

“King Arthur!” the man calls, bowing. “Seems I do not have to travel to the heart of Camelot to deliver you a message after all.”

I notice Merlin stiffen and almost call him out on having one his ‘funny feelings’ again, but I know better than to show any sort of weakness in front of one of Sarrum’s men, familiarity with a certain servant included.

“Well, what is it?” I ask.

“The Sarrum has personally asked me to tell you of the most glorious news. We have apprehended Morgana Pendragon and her pet dragon. Her dark sorcery will be of no harm to your kingdom again.”

“Merlin,” I almost growl. “I thought you said she was last seen with a wyvern.”

“Well I obviously didn’t believe the claim that it was a dragon. They’re extinct.”

Sarrum’s man smiles; it’s as twisted as the stories I’ve head of his ruler. “I assure you, it is a white dragon we have locked in a living grave with that witch. Just one week in that place and they’ve already both lost their fight.”

“Where?”

I turn to tell Merlin not to take that tone with someone trained to fight since birth, but that’s never stopped him before.

“At the heart of Amata, of course. You don’t have to worry. There’s no way they could escape.”

Thankfully he doesn’t notice how Merlin’s expression darkens. I try to focus back on the matter at hand. “Amata has my gratitude for achieving such a feat. I’m sure this bodes well for future relations between our kingdoms.”

“Indeed, sire.” He bows again and leaves.

“Is it me, or did anyone else find him creepy?” Gwaine asks.

I sigh. “It’s not just you. Sarrum trains his men to unnerve allies and enemies alike. We should be glad he was the one to capture Morgana. I’m afraid that if it was anyone else, she’d find a way to escape.”

“He didn’t mention a little girl though,” Gwaine points out.

“Yes, perhaps Merlin can explain why that is.” I turn to get Merlin to do just that, but both servant and horse are gone. “Merlin?”

Gwaine looks around too. “When did he…?”

“I don’t know, and I really hope he hasn’t gone where I think he has.”

Of all the idiotic decisions he has to make, riding off to Amata to interrogate a witch held prisoner in the heart of the dangerous kingdom, really might be the worse.

I shake my head. “Let’s go find the idiot, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured it was time to address the Sidhe staff in the room (or forest).


	7. Rage of a Dragonlord

**MERLIN**

I can hear their screams. I can feel their pain like the hums of the earth. I can stop it, all of it. Druids, all of them yelling out in their minds. It’s the same message, over and over again.

_“EMRYS, HELP US!”_

I don’t know if they can sense me or if they’ve been desperately calling out for days, weeks, months, years. But I’m here now. I can respond.

_“Just tell me where you are. I’m coming.”_

A wave of pure relief almost knocks me off my horse.

_“In the ground. Next to his castle. The Sarrum.”_

I still can’t hear Aithusa, but I know she’s there. That soldier had no reason to lie. It took all of my self-control not to end his bragging with a flash of my eyes. But that’s hardly the best way to tell Arthur and Gwaine about my magic. At least this way I can help Aithusa, help all the magic-users who’ve been caught by that vile, despicable man who calls himself a king. Sarrum’s going to wish he hadn’t messed with my dragon.

I ride out of the forest and into sight of the pathetic looking castle before me. Sure, its defences could rival Camelot’s, but it doesn’t have the same beauty, the same elegance of Camelot’s towers. The castle is all jagged edges and dark stone, its only purpose intimidation. Well, consider me vaguely intimidated, in the same sense of Arthur’s grumpy morning face, so not really deterred at all.

I calmly hop off my horse and tie her loosely to a tree. If things get bad, it’s for the best that she can escape. At least from this distance, she shouldn’t get crushed by any falling rubble. I can hear the screams now that I’m close the castle. They aren’t just human. I can hear Aithusa. Aithusa who can’t speak yet, is screaming. These people, these monsters have chained her up and hurt her. They’ve chained up so many magic-users. I can see them, the expanse of living graves next to the castle, and the guards, so many guards, that look absolutely delighted by their job, by being able to laugh at the people who they’re treating as lower than animals, lower than filth.  

It’s about time I showed them the true power of magic.

The ground shakes, jagged cracks splitting the rock apart, spiralling out from me, creating fissures in the ground that crash into the earth prisons. The guards whirl around at one. They see me, my eyes a constant gold, as I raise my hand up. Storm clouds gather, wind rushes around me, thunder rumbles like a beast and I drop my hand. Lightning bolts strike the guards, the castle, everything standing in my path. Wind tears at the castle, three great tornados forming at its edges and meeting together like the druid mark.

My body sags from the overuse of magic, but I push through it. I can’t afford to stop now.

Hundreds of arrows soar towards me. I lazily flick my hand. They catch fire and turn to dust. A group of soldiers let out a battle cry and run at me, their swords raised. I stroll past them, mutter a spell under my breath, and they all fall to the ground unconscious. The screams have stopped now. There are plenty of panicked yells from the remaining guards and the castle, but I filter them out. I reach the centre of the mass of earth cells and slam my hand against the ground. The covers disintegrate in a gold flash. I reach out with my magic and shatter the chains in all the cells, but one.

_“Thank you, Emrys, thank you!”_

_“Get out now, quickly.”_

Various colours of magic burst from the cells as they all help each other out. The occasional druid passes me a concerned glance as I limp towards the untouched cell, but they say nothing and run for the trees. My head throbs with every step now, begging me to stop, to rest, but I need to keep going. I might not have used this much magic at once before, but that doesn’t mean I’ve hit my limit. I’m Emrys after all; that has to mean something more than just having some destiny with Arthur.

I finally reach the untouched cell, where the cries of Aithusa have stopped. There’s another presence in the cell, a presence I’m not sure I want to release, but it’s about time she saw me, the real me. Out of all the things I’ve done in the past few weeks, Gaius is going to hate this the most, but I need to see Aithusa and they’re in the same hole.

(Gaius has diagnosed Leon with a lack of sane prioritising, after the knight complained about Gwaine not giving him his winnings yet. Apparently, the knights haven’t realised that bad things always happen when those three go on a quest together).

I crouch at the edge and peer down. Aithusa chirps happily at me. I see now what was stopping her from answering my calls. Magic-binding chains are attached to both her and the other figure in the cell. Aithusa nudges the slumping mass, who absentmindedly pats the dragon while glancing up. Her green eyes widen, and she shakes her head in disbelief.

I smile. “Hello, Morgana.” A guard yells at me and raises his sword. My eyes flash gold and he falls into one of the earth cells. Serves him right. I turn back to Morgana who looks at me in even more shock. “I see you’ve met my dragon,” I say calmly, shattering the chains holding Aithusa.

_“MERLIN!”_

I grin. _“Good to hear your voice again, Aithusa. Think you can fly up here to me?”_

_“Won’t leave Morgana.”_

My smile drops. _“She’s not a good person.”_

_“She’s my friend. She protected me from them.”_

_“She’s the reason you got trapped in here. If you hadn’t healed her-.”_

_“FRIEND!”_

I sigh. _“Fine, get up here first.”_

_“You promise you’ll help her?”_

_“I promise.”_

Aithusa chirps happily, nudges Morgana again, unfurls her wings and flies up to join me. I don’t want to think about what would’ve happened if she was down there any longer and grew in that space. Aithusa nudges me and pointedly looks down at Morgana. The once Lady of Camelot glares up at me with a hatred she used to reserve for Uther. I could point this out to Aithusa, but I didn’t go through all this effort to find her, just to end up with her hating me for breaking a promise.

If our roles were reversed, Morgana would let me rot down there. I don’t doubt it for a second. But the reason I didn’t trust her, the one who turned me against her, the voice of warning who made me betray her, is the same damn dragon that allowed Aithusa to suffer this too. I am done basing my decisions on what Kilgharrah has told me. Morgana might stab me in the back for this, she’ll most probably try to kill me afterwards, bur for the first time when it comes to her in so very long, I know for sure that this is the right decision.

“I’m getting you out of there.”

Someone clears their throat. I turn around. The whole army of Amata sprawls out in front of me. I guess they noticed my entrance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's usually one for subtlety. That tends to not work when breaking out a bunch of magic-users. I figured Amata wouldn't have just been keeping Morgana/Aithusa prisoner when they're so set against sorcery and that they would use stronger magic-binding chains on the pair than the others, which is why the druids could do mind-speech, but Aithusa couldn't.


	8. Emrys

**ARTHUR**

_“What if Aithusa is the dragon?”_

Gwaine asked that last night while drifting off to sleep. I don’t think he meant it, really, just one of those random thoughts. But I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. Because that would make sense, wouldn’t it? It’d explain why Merlin never mentioned her before and how she could bring Morgana back from the brink of death despite being so young. I have a feeling I know which egg she hatched from too. That was six months ago, so the answer Merlin gave me technically wasn’t a lie. But I’m a little more concerned with how he’s gotten mixed up caring for a baby dragon than the technicalities of how Merlin’s been lying to me.

Everything else aside, it’s such a Merlin thing to do.

(Gaius is considering hiring a new apprentice, one that doesn’t run off to find dragons in the middle of the night).

Gwaine stiffens on his horse suddenly. “Arthur, isn’t that where Sarrum’s castle is meant to be?”

I look to the horizon. Three tornadoes collide, seem to stop for a moment, and fizzle out. “Magic,” I realise. “He’s being attacked by magic.”

“Morgana?”

“Most probably. We better stop Merlin from aggravating her even more.”

“But how’d she get out?” Gwaine asks. “You don’t think…?”

“Merlin may be an idiot, but even he isn’t stupid enough to release Morgana.”

*

We finally break through the tree line and have to immediately duck. A small white dragon swoops overhead, letting out a rather tiny burst of fire against the army that stands between us and a crumbling structure that must be Sarrum’s castle. The rumoured Earth Cells of Amata are just beyond the vague blob of two sorcerers pushing against the army. I thought the tales of the living graves were just that, but this kingdom really does keep people down there. Gwaine lets loose a torrent of curses as the Sarrum himself breaks off from his army and approaches us on his horse.

“Arthur Pendragon, you’ve picked a rather unpleasant time to visit.”

“I received word that you held my sister prisoner. It appears you’ve found that task as difficult as Camelot has in the past.”

“It is no matter. We will have her and her rescuer back in their holes quickly enough.”

I’m impressed. I’ve never met anyone aside from my father who could be so obviously overwhelmed and still sound as though everything is in his control. It seems the Sarrum and my father act the exact same way when under a dragon attack. None of this explains where Merlin’s ended up though. Yet that’s hardly what’s most odd right now.

“My father used to tell me stories about you.” I say. “It’s hard to believe the man even he was afraid of lives in a derelict castle that’s more rubble than stone.”

“It wasn’t rubble an hour ago! This is proof of magic’s unrelenting destruction. That sorcerer, the dragonlord who looks like a mere serving boy, he did this.”

Serving boy? He can’t be mean…

“Merlin?” Gwaine asks, badly supressing a laugh. “Well I always knew not to get on his bad side.”

I try my best not to glare at Gwaine, I really do, but even I can’t manage the impossible. How could he seriously be joking around that Merlin’s a sorcerer, a traitor right now? Sure, the dragonlord part makes a little sense if that white little dragon dancing through the sky truly is Aithusa, but magic? I’m going to need a little more than some ridiculous coincidence to convince me that Merlin, of all people, turned to magic.

Sure enough, Amata’s army splits in two, revealing the second sorcerer, his bright red neckerchief impossibly coupled with golden eyes.

Gwaine flinches. I don’t blame him. All this time, Merlin’s been-.

“He left with his blue one,” Gwaine says quietly.

I turn on him, incredulous. “Merlin’s fighting alongside Morgana and you want to comment on his change in clothes colour?”

“Arthur,” Gwaine practically growls. “He left with his blue one. Merlin didn’t bring another colour. That’s not his red neckerchief, that’s blood.”

And just like that, the whirlwind in my mind slows down. Everything’s unnervingly simple right now. Merlin’s in trouble. This so-called king had druids and others only suspected of magic trapped in living graves. Camelot might’ve benefited from an alliance to take down Morgana in the future, but she’s right here. Maybe, just maybe, if we do this, I can finally get through to my sister, to the scared girl that gotten taken over by hate. Either way, Gwaine’s already drawn his sword and is pointing it at the Sarrum. I can’t very well let one of my best knight get killed.

Merlin better have some answers for all this. It’d be a little difficult to question him if he gets himself killed from facing down a bloody army without me. I suppose I should save his sorry behind then.

Sarrum scowls. “You would let your knight turn his sword on me? Your father would be disappointed in you, Pendragon.”

“My father taught me to take responsibility for my own mistakes. I think it’s time Camelot took proper responsibility for Morgana Pendragon. It’s clear that Amata isn’t equipped to handle a witch of her power. If you’re unwilling to let us take her, then I’m more than willing to do so by force.”

He scoffs. “She’d no sooner go with you than she would return to her prison. She would kill you before even listening.”

“Perhaps, but the man with her will listen to me.” I draw my sword. “Move aside and redraw your men. We’ll take Morgana from Amata before nightfall.”

“To do so would be an act of war.”

Gwaine seems to sense my hesitance. “How many children have you kept in those holes?” he asks.

“Nobody is safe from the corruption of magic once it’s taken hold. Camelot used to know that,” Sarrum says.

“Camelot never stood for keeping children in such conditions and we will not stand for it now. If I cannot convince you to not declare war, then war it will be, but do not think for a moment that you have a chance at winning. I’ve a feeling this is one fight that my sister will side with me for. You should know by now to never underestimate a Pendragon, let alone a pair of them.”

“And you should know better than to declare war with only a knight by your side.” Sarrum signals his men. “I look forward to sending your peasant Queen the conditions of Camelot’s surrender.”

A volley of arrows soars towards us. I beckon my horse to move out of the way, but she throws me off instead. The arrows stop mid-flight and turn around. They fly back at their senders, dividing the line of archers. I scramble to my feet and whip my head around. Golden eyes meet mine and fade to blue. Merlin. He seems frozen on the spot, eyes widening in fear. I find myself equally unable to move until an Amatan soldier raises his sword behind Merlin.

“Watch out!” I yell.

Merlin’s eyes flash gold and the soldier falls the ground, clearly unconscious, not dead. Surely, if he was an evil sorcerer, he would’ve killed the man without question.

 He nods across the field and turns back to the fight.

Gwaine breaks away from his fight with Sarrum, now on foot, and follows my gaze to Merlin. “Doesn’t seem all that evil to me,” he points out.

I scowl, disarming a soldier. “The man’s helping Morgana. Magic aside, he’s not innocent.”

“Aren’t we doing the same?” Gwaine retorts, fighting with his back to mine.

“No, because I’ve no intention of letting her go.”

Gwaine scoffs, pulling his signature move, taking a soldier’s sword and continuing to fight with both it and his own.

“You really think she’ll just let us capture her after she spent the last two weeks in an inhumane cell?”

I deflect a blow and send a soldier crashing into the ground.

“I think she’ll be more open to conversation after we helped rescue her.”

“Following me doesn’t really count as helping rescue, especially considering I had no intention of doing it when I first came here,” Merlin points out, sliding into position beside us and fighting with magic.

Gwaine doesn’t seem surprised by his appearance. “Why did you rescue her then?” he asks.

Merlin sighs. “I think it’ll be easier to answer everyone’s questions once we’re done dealing with the small army.” He catches sight of the dragon and scowls. “Aithusa!” he yells. “Quit doing so many fancy manoeuvres. You’re only going to tire yourself out.”

I guess that answers that question.

It’s strange how easy and natural it is to fight with Merlin and Gwaine at my sides, the former using magic as easily as we do a sword. What did that bridge-keeper say? He called me Courage and said I needed Strength and Magic, then these two showed up, insolent as ever. I guess it should’ve been obvious then, but I was too angry that Merlin showed up on a quest I was meant to complete by myself, to really think about it. As annoying as it is to admit, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have succeeded without their help.

That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven Merlin. I’m beyond furious. There’s just no time for that right now.

“We can’t win this fight,” Merlin says suddenly, his gold eyes somewhat dimmer than before.

“Don’t be like that, Merlin,” Gwaine says. “We’ve still got plenty of fight left in us.”

“You might,” he mutters under his breath. “If we try and leave now, I’m sure they won’t follow. They’ve got a crippled army and ruined castle to deal with. The other prisoners are long gone. I was only planning to fight until they got away.”

“Well we’re at war with them now, _Mer_ lin. Maybe you wouldn’t be so tired if you knew how to use a sword.”

He laughs; I try not to hear how exhausted he sounds. “Never needed one before.” Not with the magic, goes unsaid. “Look, I’m going to contact Morgana and we can make a break for the trees. I’m sure she’ll have just as many questions as you two.”

“And how exactly are you going to contact her?” I ask.

Merlin taps his temple. “Mind-speech. All druids have it, plus dragons. I figured it out from them.”

“They didn’t teach you?” I question, blocking an attack Merlin fails to see.

“Arthur, very little of my magic was taught by others. Most of it’s instinctual, the rest self-taught.”

Then he continues fighting while presumably contacting Morgana, like that wasn’t the first time he spoke to me directly about his magic. I know he’s been openly using it throughout this fight, but there’s something different from that and saying ‘my magic’ so casually. He makes it sound like it’s not some recent development, but something that’s been there all this time. And I can’t help but wonder whether he would’ve told me if I wasn’t King. Then again, Gwaine seemed equally surprised by it all so Merlin clearly never told him. Maybe there’s more to it.

It takes me a moment to realise that we’re actually following Merlin’s plan and that neither Gwaine or I questioned taking orders from the sorcerer while tactically retreating from the dwindling, yet still large, army. Aithusa lands beside us, rolling into an undignified heap that Merlin laughs at. He says something in dragon-tongue, amused, and Aithusa scrambles to her feet. She follows Merlin while we collect our horses, that were suspiciously waiting by Merlin’s. I assume magic was involved in that particular stroke of luck, like many others we’ve had over the years.

Morgana waits for us in a large clearing, only seeming to see Merlin. I don’t know if it’s assuring that she looks absolutely livid.

“You’re Emrys!” she accuses.

Merlin shrugs. “Apparently.”

“You have magic.”

“Yep.”

“You’re a dragonlord.”

“You know Morgana, I expected better from you.” Merlin says, undoing his neckerchief and revealing a large cut across his neck. He presses the cloth against it. “What happened to the cunning Lady of Camelot who played the adoring ward of Uther while wanting nothing more than to kill him? She wouldn’t be reduced to stating the obvious so much.”

“Merlin, my friend, you look three seconds away from passing out,” Gwaine says.

They turn around, Morgana somehow managing to look angrier, and Merlin slowly blinking.

He leans towards me. “I think it’s spreading. Quick, Arthur, run away before you start spouting that the sky is blue or the grass is green.”

“Actually, the sky’s more grey after the storm and those tornados. The grass is black next to what’s left of the Sarrum’s castle.”

He laughs. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was pretty mad.”

“That was all you?”

“He is the greatest sorcerer to ever live,” Morgana says dryly, apparently unimpressed by that ludicrous statement.

Merlin frowns suddenly. “I wanted to tell you, all of you at some point. I guess I can tell you now.” He straightens, dropping his hand away from his cut. “I’m a warlock. I was born with magic and have been using it in Camelot to protect the Once and Future King, Arthur Pendragon. The druids call me Emrys. I have a feeling that means something important, aside from the whole creating a Golden Age for Albion with Arthur, but nobody’s told me. I’ve poisoned Morgana, released the Great Dragon, who I’m still annoyed at for abandoning Aithusa, and tried to save Uther’s life as Dragoon, but a certain someone planted an enchanted necklace to reverse those effects. I’ve committed a lot of crimes and lied countless times in the interest of keeping my friends alive.”     

Merlin smiles as he turns to me and Morgana, his eyes drooping closed. “I’m pretty sure you both want to kill me right now, but do me a favour and don’t let Aithusa see. In fact, just leave her out of it. I didn’t come all this way just for her to be traumatised or hurt.” He sways. “Now, if you don’t mind, I just used a lot of magic, like a lot a lot of magic, so I’m gonna take a little nap. If you could not kill me in my sleep, that’d be great.”

He promptly collapses.

Gwaine catches him, shaking his head. “You’re too trusting around angry Pendragons, my friend. Far too trusting.”

I agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little later than I wanted to post it, but this chapter's the longest so far. The next (and final) chapter will be a long chapter as well, though I'm not sure yet if it'll be shorter than this one or not.


	9. A Different Kind of King

**MERLIN**

Something nudges me awake. I slap it away and curl into myself more. The nudge is more persistent now, a sense of urgency. I groan. The voices stop. I hadn’t even realised there were voices to fall silent, but they have now. It’s like they’re waiting for something, waiting for me. Why would they…? Oh.

“I guess nobody decided to kill me then,” I say, reluctantly opening my eyes and sitting up.

Aithusa nudges me again, making me sigh and stroke her head. She seems to smile and drops her head onto my lap.

“I wanted some answers first,” Morgana snaps.

I rub my eyes and look around properly. Morgana’s on the opposite side of the clearing, a little less angry than before. Gwaine’s closest to me, a definite barrier between me and the bubbling fury that refuses to even glance my way. Suppose I should consider myself lucky he joined me in the fight, rather than letting some soldier run me through. Looks like the prat’s regretting that now.

“Well you need to ask some questions first,” I say, my aching head taking away any desire to skirt around the point.

“Who’s to say you’ll answer honestly?” Morgana asks.

I yawn. “I’ve nothing left to hide. My three biggest secrets are already in the open. I was born with magic, I’m Emrys and I’m the last dragonlord. I just tore apart a castle in a matter of minutes. I’m far too tired to bother with lying.”

Arthur shifts a little yet remains silent.

Gwaine tilts his head to the side. “But you slept for almost an entire day,” he says.

Morgana scoffs. “Expending that much magic would kill anyone else. I’m surprised even _Emrys_ woke up.”

“Yes, well, worse things have tried to kill me before,” I say.

That gets a definite reaction from Arthur, a clear flinch, but the prat refuses to look my way. It’s more concerning than the throbbing headache.

“Like the Dorocha?” Gwaine asks.

“You survived that?” Morgana questions.

“Some water spirits healed me. When the veil was torn, it wasn’t just dark spirits that came through.”

“Surely Lancelot would’ve noticed,” Gwaine says.

“He knew.” Arthur still doesn’t look at me, but I can see the certainty in his expression as he continues. “Lancelot knew about your magic.”

“He found out, overheard me enchant his weapon against the griffin. I was the reason he didn’t stay in Camelot back then. He didn’t want to take the credit for something I did. The whole forgery thing was my idea too. His life would’ve been easier if he had never met me.” I sigh. “Everyone’s would be.”

Arthur finally looks at me. “Yes, it definitely would.”

Gwaine glares at Arthur until the King turns away again.

“You’ve never told anyone about your magic, have you?” Gwaine asks.

“There was one person, but she was killed shortly after. Everyone else, well they’ve found out by seeing me do it. The survival rate of people who know isn’t particularly high.”

Morgana smiles, a twisted kind. “You would kill to protect your secret?”

“I would kill to protect my kingdom and the ones I love. Sometimes that extends to myself, yes. Most of the people who’ve found out about me and been on my side have sacrificed themselves for the greater good or died when I failed to save them.”

Arthur releases his grip on his sword. I guess it speaks to my lack of self-preservation instinct that I never noticed his hand on it.

“Speaking of saving people,” Morgana starts, her tone sending chills down my spine. “You haven’t answered the one question I’m sure everyone here wants to know most. Why exactly did you rescue me? I’m your sworn enemy, the biggest threat to Camelot and your precious Arthur, and the same person you’ve tried to kill before.”

“I never wanted you dead, Morgana. No matter what I did or said, I never wanted you dead, but I had no intention of releasing you either.”

“Then why did you?” the biting tone was something I’d associate with Morgana, but instead it comes from Gwaine.

I suppose this is one thing even he can’t let slide.

“Because Aithusa asked me. She demanded that I save her friend, or she would not leave that hole.”

Arthur scoffs. “You’re a dragonlord, aren’t you? You could’ve just ordered her.”

I scowl, getting him to look at me. “I could have ordered her to do anything I damn well pleased, but I never would. I don’t _like_ giving dragonlord orders. It’s unnerving, to say the least, to take control of an intelligent being. The last time I did it, Kilgharrah wouldn’t look at me properly for months. It is well within my right as their lord to command them, but I much prefer asking. I just went through all this trouble to rescue Aithusa. I was not about to make her hate me over some stupid prophecies that Morgana was the darkness to my light.

“The only reason I let things get so out of the control in the first place, was because I listened to a decrepit, angry, biased dragon. Aithusa, at least, is pure and innocent and fully capable of telling the difference between good and evil. I know I said before that she wasn’t, but that’s because I hadn’t seen it yet. I hadn’t seen the way Morgana was protectively curled around my dragon. I hadn’t seen that the light I helped crush into oblivion was still there, still persevering through all that pain, fear and hate. I hadn’t seen the full extent of my mistakes. Because I never should’ve kept my magic secret from any of you three. Each of you has your own reasons for deserving to know. I’m sorry I took so long to realise.”

“Sorry?” Arthur repeats. “You lie to my face for years and now you’re saying sorry like it makes up for it? You have to be one of the most idi-.”

“I forgive you.” Morgana laughs, incredulous. “I’m not even sure why, but I forgive you. I thought for so long that your kindness was some façade, some terrible proof that anyone could fool me into believing in their goodness while waiting to stab me in the back. I’ve waited for you to finally reveal your true nature to everyone else, so they’d understand what it’s like to have one of their closest friends turn on them. But I was wrong. A truly evil man does not let their enemy go free, someone more than likely to kill him the first chance they get, just because he is worried he’ll upset a dragon. And if you haven’t been evil, after all this time, then what have I been, fighting against you and all you stand for?”

“Frightened, just like the rest of us,” I answer. “Too proud to ask for help or admit your mistakes, like the rest of us. Robbed of all trust, aid and your home, unlike the rest of us. If I hadn’t had someone to assure me that I wasn’t the monster I thought I was when I came to Camelot, I’m sure my path would’ve been much the same as yours.”

“You’re not a monster.” Both Arthur and Gwaine say it, though the former looks surprised by the fact. He shakes his head, as if trying to rid himself of conflicting emotions.

“Arthur, you saw how much destruction my magic just wrought. I am the very embodiment of all you were raised to hate.”

“No. Yes. I…” Arthur stands. “I don’t know! I don’t know what I’m meant to think of all of this-, this-, this nonsense! You have both knowingly broken the laws of Camelot. You have both caused my people to suffer; Morgana through her invasions and Merlin through his releasing the Great Dragon. You have both shown proof of magic’s unparalleled power. I know I should fear you. I know I should run you through. I know I should do something to punish you. But I can’t. I can’t bring myself to truly hate either of you. It’s not fair! None of this, it’s just not fair.”

Aithusa lifts her head in the resounding silence. She studies Arthur for a moment before stretching out, climbing to her feet and waddling over to him. Aithusa nudges his foot with her snout and chirps. Arthur stares at her, eyes wide and body frozen. He shakes his head suddenly and storms off. His sword remains on the ground. Aithusa watches him leave before turning to me.

_“Should I follow?”_ she asks.

_“I think it’s best to leave him be for now.”_

_“Still danger nearby.”_

I smile. _“Then protect your King. Just try not to bother him while he’s thinking. It takes a lot of energy for him sometimes.”_

Aithusa laughs, startling Gwaine who half jumps. _“I’ll protect him from himself, then.”_

I don’t know if she realises the full meaning of that, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she did. Dragons definitely mature faster than humans. Aithusa follows Arthur, leaving the rest of us in an awkward sort of silence, which naturally Gwaine breaks.

“I’m cool with magic, by the way. I tend to be a hate the person, not their skill, kind of guy.”

Morgana raises an eyebrow. “Then you hate me for starving you, making you fight for my entertainment and reducing your dignity to dust?”

“Exactly, except the dignity part. I already had none of that.”

“Or restraint,” I say.

He frowns, pulling out a water skin that I doubt contains any water. “I’ve plenty of that, thank you very much. I didn’t knock Arthur out, sling you over my shoulder and run away when you fell asleep.”

“Passed out.”

“You were snoring.”

“Was not.”

“So were.”

“Thank you.”

Gwaine smiles. “You’re welcome. I do kind of wish you had told me though.”

“That seems to be the consensus.”

“He’ll get passed this. We’ll go back to Camelot and everything will go back to normal,” Gwaine says.

“If by normal you mean deal with the war Arthur started, then sure, maybe we’ll go back to that.” My smile drops. “Provided he doesn’t decide to banish me.”

“Please, Arthur’s a brilliant tactician when he puts his mind to it. He’s hardly going to banish our best shot at beating Amata.”

“I will _not_ be a weapon,” I practically growl.

“And I’d never ask that of you,” Arthur says, his voice steadier than it’s been all day. “Though I wouldn’t discourage you from doing what you’ve always done and saving the day at the last minute.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

Arthur grins, that biggest-prat-in-all-of-Albion grin. “Aithusa told me.”

“Aithusa told you?”

“Well she shared some of her memories, but that’s practically the same thing.”

I stare at the dragon in question in open shock. She does that smug little dragon smile thing that she must’ve learned from Kilgharrah and settles back down with her head in my lap.

“And you let her?”

“She’s just a baby, _Mer_ lin. What was she going to do?”

“She could’ve killed you.”

Arthur gives me his _idiot_ look and sits back against his tree. “I still want to know what you meant when you said Aithusa was like family to you.”

“I did hatch her,” I point out.

Gwaine chokes on his drink. “She’s your daughter!”

I shrug. “I guess. I’m her dragonlord. Kilgharrah’s too, but he’s way older than me so he’s a different kind of family. We’re kin. That’s as much as I know for sure.”

Arthur shakes his head. “You’re completely hopeless at this too, aren’t you?”

“Well, the only other dragonlord I met died the day after I realised I’d end up one too. So, sorry if I’m a little uniformed.”

Aithusa nudges me. I stroke her head.

“Balinor,” Arthur says, hanging his head. “The ability is passed down from father to son, after death, right?”

Morgana scoffs. “How’d you know that?”

“I did some research after we went out to destroy that dragon egg. I figured if there was one last egg hidden away, it wouldn’t be absurd if there was another hidden somewhere else.” Arthur considers Aithusa for a moment. “You hatched her from that egg, didn’t you?”

I smile. “Letting her egg be crushed would’ve gone against all instinct. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more joy than when I hatched her. It was like the whole world got a little brighter and all my burdens lighter.”

Arthur flicks his gaze to me. “When did you find out that he was your father?” he asks seriously.

“Right before we went to find him, Gaius told me. I almost stopped talking to him after we came back. If he or Mother had just told me about Balinor earlier, then maybe I could’ve saved him. Maybe I could’ve spent more than a couple of days with the man. It’s hardly the first time I’ve had an opportunity to truly get close to someone ripped away from me within a matter of days.”

“Could you have saved him with magic?” Arthur asks. “If I wasn’t there, would you have been able to heal him?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

“But I need you to.”

I focus on Aithusa. “If you weren’t there, I would never have let him get hurt in the first place. I would’ve taken care of all of them with my magic. But,” I look at Arthur now, “even then, I’m sure that he would’ve died soon enough. Either Uther would’ve had him killed or something else would’ve happened. Destiny has a way of making sure I don’t leave it behind. And after what I did to Morgana, and all that death that Kilgharrah brought, I wouldn’t have hesitated to go back to Ealdor with Balinor. I was so done with making all the wrong decisions.” I smile. “I’m sure the three of you can understand wanting to escape that.”

They’re all silent a while after that, until Arthur shifts suddenly. “I guess I have to repeal the ban on magic then.” He meets our shocked expressions with a soft smile. “Well, apparently destiny wants Merlin to stay in Camelot and I can’t expect the greatest sorcerer to ever live not to use magic.”

“Thank you, Arthur.”

Gwaine grins. “See, told you it’d work out fine.”

“And what about me?” Morgana asks. “We may have both forgiven Merlin for his crimes, but mine are far worse. Will you have me executed? The pyre is rather fitting. Or perhaps you’ll run me through while I sleep and return to Camelot with the good news.”

Arthur stands, resting his hand on Excalibur. “I, King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, hereby exile you, Morgana Pendragon, from Camelot for your crimes against the kingdom. You are stripped of your title of nobility and claim to the throne. Should you return, you will face execution by sword. I implore that you find a positive use for your magic and should you save an equal amount of lives to those you ended in your multiple invasions of Camelot, then your sentence will be reconsidered. A number will be provided to you at a later date.”

“No need. I already know exactly how many,” Morgana says, tears in her eyes. “Thank you, brother. I suppose you are not our father after all.”

“I’ve been saying that for years,” I point out.

Arthur turns to me, with that up-to-something smile of his. “I, King Arthur of Camelot, hereby bestow upon you, Merlin of Ealdor, the title of Lord in accordance to your dragonlord status and title of Emrys among the druids. Once the laws of magic are changed, this will elevate you to the position of Court Sorcerer and Chief Advisor to the King of Camelot.” He sits back down. “Also, you’re fired from being my manservant. It’s about time I got someone competent for the job.”

I make a point of ignoring him in favour of a now dozing Aithusa. I’m pretty sure my massively wide grin gives me away though. Gwaine bursts into laughter beside me.

“Huh,” I say. “It seems like I’m suddenly remembering that Sir Gwaine here was born into nobility.”

That shuts him up.

(And if anyone is wondering, Gaius is incredibly relieved when the king, knight and ex-servant ride back into Camelot. Less so, when he notices the white dragon trailing Merlin’s horse).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering 2 years in that hole made Morgana go insane, I figured 2 weeks and being saved by Merlin would put her in a slightly more forgiving mood. She and Arthur are definitely still angry at Merlin after the end of this chapter, and would end up asking him more questions, but his unwavering honesty is a breath of fresh air to the ones he's lied to the most.
> 
> As far as A Dragonlord's Duty is concerned, this story is complete. I might one day do a continuation (in a series), but I've got plenty of different fics to write and post before then. It's certainly not a priority, though that said, if I come up with the perfect way to do it, then it might happen quicker. Or not at all. I honestly don't know. 
> 
> Hope you've enjoyed another one of my not forgetting about Aithusa stories because frankly I can't reconcile Merlin's utter joy when she hatched to not noticing her disappearance over the three-year time-skip between seasons 4 & 5.


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